


A Brief Flicker of Light

by Takada_Saiko



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Rumbelle - Freeform, enchanted forest, pre-Dark Curse, skin deep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-18
Updated: 2014-05-22
Packaged: 2018-01-25 15:59:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1654280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Takada_Saiko/pseuds/Takada_Saiko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was meant to be a simple trip down to the village at the base of the mountain for a quick deal and a few needed ingredients, but what Rumplestiltskin and Belle discover is something else entirely when they find that a spell has been cast over the town, cutting off all magic from it and trapping them within its bounds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**A Brief Flicker of Light - Part One**

* * *

Belle had always considered herself a fairly talented judge of character. Perhaps it was all of the mysteries she'd read as a child that had helped to form up her key sense of intuition. In general, she could tell when a person was lying or hiding something and it was one of the many reasons that her father had liked to keep her near his counsel - not  _on_  it, per se, as women in her land were not expected to be quite such clever thinkers - to tell when those around him were being less than honest. Her first impressions were almost always spot on.

Her first impression of Rumplestiltskin had been terrible. He was every bit the monster that the rumours had said and she'd even begun to wonder if his  _quip_ about skinning children was really a joke at all. He was vile and evil. He spoke of life and death in a flippant manner, without a care for those he hurt and even less for those that he exacted his prices from. He was cold hearted and she'd been certain that his soul was stained darker than any other in the land.

Then the first layer had peeled back. It was a thin layer and hardly provided a clear view of the man beneath the monster, but it was a start. It gave her hope, and hope was a handhold to allow her a grip to begin to pull back layer by layer. It was a smile here and a joke there. One thing built on another and over the months, between the guards that he had long since put up for himself, she managed to find in him something like a shadow of humanity. She thought, given time, she might find more than just a wispy trace.

Belle had lost count of how many months she'd spent in the Dark Castle when he'd first informed her that they - not just he - would be taking a trip down into the village that rested at the bottom of the Forbidden Mountain. She'd only left the castle once since her arrival - that terrible, nerve-wrenching trip that had been their chase after Robin Hood that had first sent her on her search to find something deeper in him than the darkness that he presented to the world around him - and by the time he was actually ready to leave she'd worked herself up into an excited state.

"Don't get your hopes up, dearie," the Dark One told her. "The village is plenty dull. I'll need you to gather some things while I handle business there."

"Aren't you afraid I'll run?"

He quirked one eyebrow up. "Will you?"

"Of course not. We made a deal."

The smile was quick but it was true. She'd learned to tell the difference by this point. The smiles he gave to those that came to the castle ready to strike a deal with him were wide and put on, never reaching those strange, snake-like eyes of his. The ones he gave her, though - and they were very rare - warmed that cold gaze just a little and the smile was just a bit shy. She wondered, sometimes, what he'd been before he'd become this. Surely there was a story there, yet he hadn't told her any of it. She'd asked a time or two, of course, but he'd carefully danced around it and all of his usual walls came up and the facades fell neatly into place. He was a master showman and she would have to be patient. They had forever, after all, so there was really no hurry.

Belle had never seen a servant other than herself in the castle. It remained relatively clean if she worked at it or not, but no one ever helped her in her chores. She'd left it a week, once, without touching a mop or duster. It hadn't been any cleaner or any dirtier than it would have been had she scrubbed at everything as if her life depended on it. She wagered, though he would never admit it, that Rumplestiltskin used magic to keep his castle clean. That left her with the question of what she was really doing there, but the answer had become simple enough over time: he was lonely.

Because there were no other servants, the coach that he took on occasion had no driver. The horses were well groomed and friendly, always allowing her to pat the side of their necks affectionately, but she never saw a stableboy. Regardless, they were ready and waiting for them when she stepped out of the castle, the cloak that he'd provided to her fit around her shoulders and she was pulling her gloves on as she walked. The weather would turn warm soon, but there was still a nip in the air, leaving her chilled as she crossed the grounds. Rumplestiltskin seemed unaffected by any sort of weather change, and was waiting rather impatiently for her.

"Hurry up then," he grumbled. "I was about to leave without you."

"You wouldn't have," she answered him even as he extended a hand to balance her entrance into the carriage. For all the rumours, for all the horrible things said about him, he had been nothing shy of a gentleman at all the oddest of times, even if he was busy fussing and complaining about something she'd done. She still remembered the way he'd simply removed the sheriff's tongue in Sherwood Forest when he'd insinuated that she was anything less than a lady.

"And why's that?"

"Because you know how much I'm looking forward to this and you wouldn't want to spoil it for me."

He snorted, but didn't deny it. Instead he tapped the roof of the carriage with his open palm and the horses started forward, taking them down the path and towards the village at the base of the mountain. Belle watched the scenery pass by with wide, curious eyes. She hadn't bothered to pay too much attention on their last outing, as her mind had been working furiously for a way to talk him out of his murderous intentions while trying to remain calm and collected on the outside. Now she had a chance to marvel at the beauty that surrounded them. The snows were melting and spring was just around the corner. The time when life started peeking out of winter's last attempts to crush it had always been her favourite time of the year. It gave her hope when she had none. No matter how cold and bleak life might seem, there would be a time of warmth to follow it.

She turned, finding him gazing out the opposite window. He'd been quiet that morning at breakfast and when she'd tried to ask about it he'd brushed it off with a giggle and a quip. That generally meant that it was a heavy enough subject that he didn't want to speak with her on it. Perhaps something that was troubling him or something that he was putting a great deal of thought into. She had no way of knowing. Whatever it was, though, he seemed to be thinking on it again.

"What sort of business do you have in town today?" she asked, catching his attention now.

He stared at her a moment, those strange eyes focused on her. "And why should I tell you?" he snapped instead and she found herself laughing rather than insulted.

"Because it's polite to answer a question when you're asked. Didn't your mother ever teach you that?" The words were said with a smile, meant as a tease, but he shrugged.

"I never knew her."

The smile faded and Belle leaned against the window. "I barely knew mine when she died. What about your father?"

The Dark One stiffened. "I'm not here to discuss family histories," he growled. "Should have left you in the castle."

She'd hit a nerve again, she knew, as he slammed his open palm against the roof of the carriage and the horses slowed to a stop. "We can't possibly be there yet," she said, looking outside. They were further than she would have thought, but still not within the village.

"Perhaps the walk will busy your thoughts a bit more and you can leave me to mine," Rumplestiltskin said as he stepped out of the door. Despite his obvious irritation with her he still offered a hand for balance as she stepped out after him and she nodded her thanks.

"I'm sorry, if I struck a nerve."

"Drop it."

Belle pulled back at this. His voice had been more of a hiss than anything that resembled the playful tones. She'd heard him use it to intimidate truly dense lords and ladies that came begging for his help and offered nothing but trinkets in return. He never seemed to have a great deal of patience stored away, but when it ran thin he could become a true terror. When she'd first arrived, the wild, angry tantrums had seemed both absurd and frightening, but by now she was sure that they hid something much deeper and she knew she really had struck on something best left alone.

They walked side by side. He never insisted that she walk behind him like a real servant might, or bothered with anything that she'd seen lords require of their own servants as she'd watched them growing up. Once he had tired of keeping her in the dungeons - the game wore thin when she came down with a nasty cold, and while he'd brushed off the fact that he'd carried her up to a room and built a fire for her as not wishing to lose good help to a chill, there'd been something almost kind in the way he'd cared for her - and given her the room she currently slept in, he'd provided her with anything she could possibly want, and had even given her her own library. She'd seen servants growing up and this was not what she'd expected, and she wasn't sure if it was his own eccentricities or if he simply didn't know what to do with a servant. It made her curious as to his upbringing. While she could hardly see him as being from the peasantry classes - though he mocked her books, she'd seen him deep in study and had a wide range of knowledge that likely would have baffled the uneducated class - she could hardly think of him as having been raised by some lord or lady in a castle. Perhaps he'd been the son of a sorcerer.

"Were you schooled in magic before becoming the Dark One?"

Rumplestiltskin's gold eyes flickered to look at her, but he didn't turn. "What makes you ask that?"

Belle sighed. The man was incapable of giving a straight answer. "Because I don't know much about Dark Ones. Is it a title? Are there more of you?"

"No."

"No to which one?"

It was his turn to heave a heavy sigh. "You are insufferable, do you know that? I'm leaving you behind next time."

After a few moments of silence as they continued to walk, Belle had resigned herself to herself to being left to her curiosity, but he began to speak again, his voice holding a little less of the usual sing-song that coloured it. "No, I was not schooled in magic in my life before. Yes it is a title, and I'm the only Dark One."

"How's it passed down?"

He looked at her now, his eyes guarded and cold. "You kill your predecessor."

Belle nearly tripped over a loose stone along the path. "You… killed him?"

"Put a knife through his heart, yes."

"How can you be so nonchalant about killing the person that taught you everything?"

Rumplestiltskin snorted. "He didn't teach me anything, dearie, save one thing: never make a deal you don't understand. That's about the only useful knowledge he left me with. Now, you're not along for the conversation, you know. You'll need to gather a few things while I attend to my business." He flicked his hand and a list appeared. Belle took it, eyes skimming his scrawled handwriting and she thought she recognized a few ingredients for potions that he brewed.

"Will these all be here?"

"Yes, they should be. There are a surprising number of sorcerers in this area and so they keep it well stocked."

They were coming up to the village now, the sounds of people could be heard just off in the distance and Belle could smell bread baking. She pulled in a deep breath, reminded briefly of home. "How long do you expect to be? I'd like to take a look around, perhaps pick up a book or two…?"

The Dark One rolled his eyes, but there was no real malice in the expression. "Yes yes, I'm sure you'll have time. Just get done what I'm sending you to do first. The shop is just-" He stopped suddenly, his expression changing within just flashes of a second from confused to curious to perhaps just a little afraid before he hid that one very quickly.

"Rumplestiltskin?" she called, reaching out to him as he suddenly listed dangerously to his right. Belle let out a startled sound as she caught him, keeping him from falling fully to the ground. They'd just been walking. She could see nothing that would have caused the reaction, and as he struggled to balance himself - carefully avoiding putting too much weight against his right leg for some reason - she saw the golden scales that made up his skin begin to recede, taking with them his black claws and leaving human hands in their wake. She couldn't bring herself to speak again as she watched it happen and he stared in the same fashion, just as shocked as she was.

He straightened suddenly, trying to pull away from her, but his leg didn't want to hold his weight. He stumbled and landed hard on his knees, and when Belle sank to the ground with him to do whatever she could to help, she found wide, dark eyes full of confusion and not just a little fear. There was a man beneath the beast and he was looking directly at her. She could see the resemblance, but in many ways he was very, very different. "What's happening?" she asked carefully.

"I don't know," Rumplestiltskin gasped, his voice lower than it usually was. "There's no magic here. That doesn't make any sense. It's like… someone's put a kind of barrier to cut the town off."

"Is this what you really look like then? Do you wear some sort of… mask?"

He snorted, holding his hands up for inspection. "All magic comes with a price, dearie, and my curse does tend to show my darkened soul on the outside."

Belle blinked at him. He'd never referred to his magic as a curse before and she'd never assumed that it was. It made sense, she supposed, from what she knew of magic, but it was still strange to hear him so honest about it. She reached a hand to him. "Can you stand? Did it hurt you?"

He refused to look at her now, dark eyes fixated on the dirt below them as if he were trying to find a way to spin a lie that she might believe. He loosed a long breath at last and his resolve to dance around the truth seemed to leave him. "My ankle," he said, "was badly broken many years ago. My magic takes care of it."

"You can't walk on it without it?"

"Not without something to lean on."

"Well, I don't have any sort of walking stick for you to lean on, but I'll help you. Perhaps its best if you rearrange the meeting place of your deal and we look elsewhere for your ingredients. This is either highly inconvenient or someone was trying to be clever."

"Very clever," Rumplestiltskin murmured as he let her help him up. He didn't seem happy about it, just resigned, and she realized he really was leaning heavily on her as she wrapped his right arm around her shoulder. "Look."

The dome over the area hadn't been visible from the outside, but it was shimmering on the inside. She reached forward and felt a tingling sensation pass through her arm as she reached through it. "Can't we just leave?"

"If we could, we'd be going now," he assured her. Instead of explaining, he simply reached out to the same place she had and instead of his hand moving through the barrier it pressed up against it as if it were glass, sending sparks upward and he pulled his fingers back as if they'd been burned. "I'm trapped here."

"Without magic," Belle murmured softly.

His eyes widened just a bit and she could see the thoughts running through them as if he'd spoken them out loud. He'd always been a bit weary of her, as if he weren't quite sure if he should trust her or not and likely fell on the side of not. They'd fallen into a strange sort of companionship over the months, but that had been while she was bound inside his castle with little hopes of escaping. Even if she had managed to persuade the gates to open up and let her out, it would have broken their deal and he would have reversed whatever he'd done to save her home. Now she could just drop him, leave him broken on the road just outside of the village, and she could run. He wouldn't be able to escape it and he'd be powerless to come after her. It was an option and he knew that, but certainly not one Belle was considering. "I'm not leaving you," she assured him after a moment. "We'll find a way to get out of this."

He seemed to consider her words for a moment before finally accepting them. "Best we go on into the village. Don't draw attention to us and we might be able to find the source of this curse."

"You think it's a curse?"

"I think I should have been able to sense it long out. The fact that I didn't is as troubling as the fact that we're now inside of it."

"But you  _can_  get us out, right?"

"All spells can be taken apart if you find the loose end to pull at."

"Is there always a loose end?"

He offered her a smile that she knew well, and for the first time this man that she'd helped pick up off the ground and the Dark One she knew resembled each other a bit more. "All spells can be unravelled unless I'm casting them. Come on. Let's see if we can get a feel for what's happening."

* * *

He should have seen it coming. He should have felt it, Seen it, and known it, through and through. If this was indeed a trap laid for him, it was a clever one, and if they'd simply chosen the wrong time to visit the village during a trap laid for another sorcerer… Well, his luck never had been very good, he supposed.

Rumplestiltskin tried not to lean too heavily on the small woman that had offered to help keep him upright, but he'd forgotten just how painful his right ankle could be. He could feel every step all the way up through his leg and down into his toes. She had wrapped one arm around his waist to keep him upright and the closeness was becoming uncomfortable, but there was no other way. No one seemed to pay them much notice as they stumbled into the main section of the village. People were milling about and a man with a bread cart nearly took them off their feet in his haste. Things seemed to be going along quite normally, and why shouldn't they be? He'd never known another sorcerer to take up residence in the village - no, people like him tended to have strongholds in the darkest, most dangerous parts of the mountain - so the people there might not even realize that a spell had been cast.

"Do you need to sit?" Belle asked, startling him out of his thoughts. She was looking up at him and he did what he could to relax the strain he could feel pulling at his features.

"No, not just yet. There's a small tavern connected to the inn that we should head to."

Belle choked back a laugh. "You want a drink? Isn't it a bit early?"

"It's an excellent place for conversation and travelers will be coming down for an early lunch by now."

To her credit, she looked a little embarrassed and Rumple felt the first pain of guilt at it that he had in some time. She was a sweet girl and hardly belonged cooped up in his lonely old castle with only a monster for company. She could have left him when she realized that her escape was only a few steps away, but she'd chosen to help him. He still didn't understand the reason, but he promised himself that he'd do something to repay her for it. He wouldn't let the rush of his curse filling him back up when they escaped change his mind.

"What should I call you when we get there?"

"I'm sorry?" he asked, startled out of his thoughts by her question.

"You said a few moments ago that we shouldn't draw attention to ourselves. I would think that if the people of  _my_  town miles and miles from here know your name, the people of this village know it well." She paused and he could feel those clear blue eyes studying him. "Did people ever call you by a nickname… You know, before you became the big and terrible Dark One."

There was a hint of teasing in her voice and Rumplestiltskin glanced down at her, ready to fire back with a quip of his own, but it died on his lips when his eyes met hers. She was smiling at him in the way that she did and often it made him nervous that she was going to fling her arms around his neck in a thank you for something. She wouldn't now, he hoped, lest he drop straight back to the ground for the lack of warning. He cleared his throat, banishing the harsher words and breathed out a name that very few still used for him. "Rumple."

"Rumple," she repeated, testing it out and it seemed to pass. "I like it."

"So glad it meets your approval," he grumbled as he nodded towards the inn just ahead. They stepped inside to find it already busy and it took some looking before they found a table off to the side and she helped him down into the chair. He couldn't contain the small sound that escaped when he eased his weight off of his bad ankle and he bent down, fingers touching his boot over the area. It was swollen now, he knew, from the unusual amount of pressure it was being put under and the old injury was eating at him.

"We're not going to get very far like this," Belle murmured and he found her staring at him again, arms crossed and a frown tugging at her painted lips. "Would wrapping it help at all?"

"Perhaps a bit."

"And ice."

"I don't have time for all that, Belle," he growled. "I just want to find out what the hell is going on so that we can get home."

"Well, you're going to make time, because we'll never get anywhere if we have to sit every five minutes."

Rumplestiltskin felt an irritable protest building, but he snapped it off. Funny how much easier that was to do with his curse cut off on the other side of a spell. He felt both free and cornered all at once, and if he wasn't careful, Belle might regain her senses and just leave him there to fend for himself. If she did then he would be right back to where he was: the village coward limping about, only in a different village and quite possibly with someone trying to make it easier to kill him.

"I'm going to go over to the shop and get some things and be right back. I'll keep my ears open for anything that might be useful on my way there and back and you can listen here."

"Fine."

She smiled and it reached her eyes. "And maybe some lunch? I hardly had time to eat his morning with you ushering me out the door."

"You were too busy asking questions to eat. That's hardly my fault."

"It is when you don't answer them," she said sweetly and was out the door, leaving him sitting at the small, corner table alone.

* * *

Belle waited until the tavern door closed behind her to break out into a grin, the laugh following it as she excused herself around a man in the road. This was an entirely new side to her employer and she was certain that she liked it better, even if he was a bit grouchy because of it. He just seemed more… human like this. There was something about those dark eyes that made she kept wanting to study, but he'd catch her in it, she knew. He'd catch her in it and then he'd call her on it, and wouldn't that be embarrassing?

The store wasn't difficult to find and she ducked in, speaking briefly to a plump woman behind a counter about several things that they'd need and Belle thanked her as she waited. A few others were moving about, looking at the different herbs put up for sale and various assortments. She'd wondered if there was anything else that could be done other than add support to the old injury - he'd said it had been badly broken many years before, but as far as she knew it was nearly impossible to injure him as the Dark One, so did that mean it had come before that? - but the thought was cut short as the woman returned and Belle dug the money out of the folds of her skirt.

The streets had grown busier in the early afternoon, people moving this way and that and the little village certainly hadn't  _looked_  this big from their place on the mountain side. Children played in the street and Belle had to sidestep a flying kickball. One boy shouted an apology and she smiled and waved as she moved past. She'd promised Rumplestiltskin that she would listen for anything of use, and she felt like if she didn't find something to bring back to him he might think she hadn't put any effort into it at all. Still, she didn't want to leave him alone in that little tavern and by the time she was pushing the door back open she had found nothing of any use, at least not to them.

"Anything?" he asked as she sat down.

"I found out that they overcharge for eggs, the baker has a habit of selling stale bread to people he doesn't like, and that if he's not careful, one little boy is going to put a kickball through a window, but if anyone was trying to lure the Dark One here for some sort of terrible plot, I'm afraid they're not being very vocal about it along the main street." She glanced around, smiling a thank you to the waitress that brought their food. "What about you?"

Rumplestiltskin looked more put out than before she'd left, if that were possible. "Nothing of interest. I did go ahead and reserve a room for you in case we're stuck here through the night."

Belle blinked owlishly at him. "That was… thoughtful. Thank you. Did you get one for yourself as well?"

"You know I don't sleep," he answered automatically.

"I know you don't sleep much," she countered as she took a sip of the tea they'd been brought. "I know I've caught you dozing once or twice." He shrugged and her smile broadened, even as her voice dipped down so that only he could hear. "And you're human, right? You'll need sleep."

He looked directly at her now, those dark eyes catching her own and she felt her breath catch. The look was intense and very, very brief, but it left her continuing to stare at him even after he'd broken eye contact. "Perhaps," he murmured after a long moment.

Belle wasn't sure if it was the realization or the fact that neither of them had found anything yet and he could very well be one of the most impatient beings in all the lands, but Rumplestiltskin simply closed down at that point. He wouldn't look at her, wouldn't speak unless spoken to, and when he answered, he never said anything more than was required to respond to the question. He barely ate what had been put before him, picking at it until she reached out, her fingers touching the top of his hand and he froze as he so often did when she made any sort of physical contact with him. "Let's go up to the room, get your ankle wrapped, and we'll see about broadening our search," she offered sensibly.

The room was tiny, but that actually seemed to help as Rumplestiltskin was able to use the sparse furniture to limp to a more seat on the rickety bed. It creaked terribly as he sat on it and he glared irritably as if he could spook it into complying with his silent wishes. Belle found herself smiling at him and set her satchel down on the mattress, pulling out an assortment of supplies, and crouching down to the floor to get a better angle for it. "I didn't know what you'd done to it, so I just told her that you'd twisted your ankle and it was swollen. Here, let me help you get the boot off-"

" _No_ ," he hissed and she pulled back instantly from the tone he used. When she dared to look up at him she saw how tense he was, already pulling the injured leg up to himself and away from her. "There's no need," he said after a moment. "I'll take care of it."

"I'm not going to hurt you, you know," Belle huffed. She waited, not rising from her place until he slowly straightened his leg back out and gave her the briefest of nods. "Thank you." She worked carefully to ease the boot off and felt him tense several times a bit more than he already was. He said nothing, though, and one glance showed his fingers gripping the edge of the bed like he meant to put a hole through it. Finally the boot slid off, as did the sock, and she rolled his pant leg up so that she could wrap the joint.

Belle paused, her eyes fixated on the terrible scarring that she hadn't expected. She'd never seen it before - why would she? - and had no idea what to expect. A bad break is what he'd called it, but this looked like someone had taken a sledgehammer to it and shattered it. The scars were jagged and terrible, the bones looking like they had never been set right, therefore never healed right. She must have stopped breathing, because when he spoke in a low, strained voice, she felt the breath release all at once. "Quite a spectacle, dearie, but I'd appreciate, since you were so insistent, if we could get on with it."

"What happened?" she breathed out the words, looking up and finding those dark eyes just as guarded as the gold ones were any other day.

"Life. Let's get on with it. I have better things to do than sit around this dull little town longer than we need to."

Belle nodded, reaching for the bindings and wrapping them as tightly as she dared to give him some support for their afternoon of mystery solving. When she finished, she started to roll his trousers back down into place but he reached down and caught her hand in a rare, intentional touch and it was she that froze this time. "Why don't you wait outside? I'll be along in just a moment."

She didn't dare trust herself to speak. He hadn't wanted her to see the scars and he most certainly didn't want to talk about them. She'd forced herself into a very private matter and all she could do at this point to make amends was to to give him a moment alone. So Belle nodded and stood, turning to leave without another word.

* * *

He had no idea what had come over him to allow her to see those scars. He rarely looked at them himself, though they were better hidden under the scaly skin that his curse provided to him. It caused them to fade into the back of his mind along with the pain from the old wound and the memories that it always brought. Milah, Bae, and his many, many failures. He'd failed as her husband and as his father, he'd failed as a soldier and as a human being when he'd chosen to sell his soul as his only option for saving the son that he'd lost anyway. Not for the first time, a small thought flickered into his mind and wondered what he was trying to accomplish by keeping Belle with him. He needed to turn her out, but he kept telling himself that he'd needed something precious as payment to end Maurice's silly war. He hadn't expected that she'd cause so much trouble.

Rumplestiltskin pulled in a deep breath and put his clothing back into place, easing himself up so that he could test the brace. It wasn't perfect, certainly, and it wasn't as if it would ever hold him without something to balance against, but it would make it easier to move than it had been. Belle was clever and practical and she hadn't run when she could have. He couldn't wrap his mind around it. When he'd sat down at the table to wait and listen, he'd thought there was a good chance that she wouldn't come back. Perhaps her kind soul had been appeased by getting the poor cripple to a chair so that she wouldn't leave him on the side of the road, but then she'd remember that monster that had stolen her from her family and she'd run. She'd come back, though, once again, and he couldn't quite understand why. He wasn't sure he  _wanted_  to understand why, because without that terrible, dark little voice whispering ideas into his mind - when had it become so frightening to rely on his own thoughts? - it was starting to pull away at the darkness that always cast a shadow over every part of his life and clear the way to allow her light in. That's what she was, he realized, a flicker of light in all of his darkness, and that was more frightening than anything.

No. He couldn't let himself think that way. That was not why he'd wanted her there and that was not how this would end, because that would only end badly. It only ever ended badly for him, at any rate. Cora had shown him that. He'd sworn the night that he lost Bae that he would love no one else until he found his boy and his failings in keeping that oath had ripped terribly at what was left of his soul. He couldn't even afford to think that way.

So he steeled himself before pulling the door open and limping his way towards the stairs. She was waiting at the bottom, glancing up and he thought she was trying to hide something as well. Pity, most likely, for a man that should never be pitied. His shattered ankle had been his own doing. There was no mercy from that.

"You coming?" she asked, forcing a smile.

Rumplestiltskin felt his chest tighten. "Of course," he managed, thinking that his voice sounded at least partially normal. He made his way slowly to the bottom of the stairs and she looped an arm through his.

"You said you didn't want to draw attention. This way you can lean on me if you need to, but it's not quite so obvious."

He nodded, not trusting his voice again as they made it out of the inn and tavern. Belle was chattering on about what she had thought looked like some kind of festival that was being set up for that evening in the main part of town. There were plenty of people there, both setting it up and watching it, and if they hoped to overhear anything they could do so there. Rumple didn't argue, but his attention did waver from his earlier thoughts as he could almost feel someone watching them. He couldn't shake the notion as they continued, but Belle seemed entirely unfazed by it, pointing out the different attractions as if they were a couple on a stroll through the little town.

Finally he stopped and Belle looked up at him, cut off mid-sentence and worry flooded through her expression. "Is your ankle hurting you again?"

"Never really stopped," he admitted softly, "If you don't mind, I'm going to hold off of it just a moment."

"Do you want me to stay here or would you prefer me to-"

"Yes, that'd be best," he said quickly. "I'll manage."

"You'll… call out for me… if you need me, won't you? I won't go far."

He leaned in close to her ear, speaking lowly to her. "Don't let this face fool you, dear. Magic or no magic, I'm still who I am."

"I know," she murmured, sounding a bit shaken by the reminder.

"Good. Go on now."

It hurt to watch her go. When had that become painful? He didn't want her right next to him for what he was planning, though, because he had no way to protect her. His quick and clever mind might be able to work him out of a scrape, but she'd likely be the price to pay for that. He didn't dare risk her in it.

Rumplestiltskin pulled in a breath. "You've been watching me for some time now, dearie. Can I help you with something?"

The young man that he was referring to snorted, taking a confident step forward. "I almost didn't recognize you, Dark One."

"That's interesting, because I certainly don't recognize you." He gave a casual shrug. "Usually if people try to take a swing at me, I at least know the face. Especially if they get close. Just who are you?"

He was tall and lean, with shortly cropped hair and dark skin and eyes. He was well dressed, but perhaps not quite a nobleman. Certainly from a well respected family. Military, perhaps, from a nearby kingdom, though he didn't wear a uniform. This was a personal call then. He offered a thin smile that was anything but friendly. "I'll make sure you remember just who I am," he growled out. "Now come on."

Rumple snorted. "Excuse me? You think I'm coming with you? And why would I do that?"

"Because if you don't, my brother is going to bury an arrow in that pretty thing you had on your arm just a few minutes ago, and if I didn't know any better, I'd say the Dark One might be working through some feelings for her."

The world stopped suddenly and he turned to look at Belle, happily oblivious to the danger. She was chatting with a girl about her age that was helping to set up the festivities and looked to be asking her about the village. He followed the man's line of sight up to a roof where another man stood with a hood covering his face and a bow ready in his hands.

"Very well," Rumplestiltskin found himself saying. He couldn't fight these men off from where he stood and Belle wasn't a price he was willing to pay, so he felt the man grab ahold of his cloak and tug him along roughly, his ankle giving every few steps that he was pulled.

* * *

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

The festival was going to be fantastic, the woman had been telling her. By the next night, their little town expected to see people from far and wide. They were very excited about it. As she spoke, Belle couldn't ignore the strange feeling that tugged at her. It was like a warning, though of what she couldn't be sure. She glanced around then, looking for Rumplestiltskin and found the place where she had left him to be empty. The feeling started to grow into something like panic rising within her and her gaze swept widely. He was nowhere to be seen, but he shouldn't have gone far even if he'd found a place to sit rather than just lean as he had been.

"Excuse me," she murmured, ducking through the crowds to get closer to where she'd left him. She didn't want to call his name out for fear of alerting whoever was after him. What if they'd found him? Would he have called to her? It wasn't like she could do anything and they both knew it. Self defence hadn't exactly been part of her courtly upbringing. She put back a reminder for herself to have him teach her at least some basic sword techniques when they got home.  _When_  they got home, she reminded herself, trying to settle down her increasingly jumbled nerves.

"Miss, are you alright?" an elderly gentleman asked kindly.

"I'm… I'm looking for someone. My friend." Her voice sounded halted and silly, even to her own ears. She'd never once called Rumplestiltskin her friend to another soul, barely even to herself and she wasn't sure of it then. She forced herself to recall that human face rather than the one that he wore all the other days that she'd known him. "He's about so tall, dark eyes, dark hair with a bit of grey in it and it's down to his shoulders. He was wearing a traveling cloak over-"

"Yes, I do believe I saw him leave with a younger man just a few minutes ago. Did he have a bit of a limp on him."

"Yes! Who did he leave with? Where did they go?"

"I couldn't say I recognized them, not with all the new faces with the festival. They did go that way, though, heading towards the edge of town not too long ago. Not much out that way save farm. Might have been heading past it and out of town, though they'll miss the festivities if they do that."

"Thank you," Belle managed, cutting him off before he could dive into what all the festivities could include. A strange man was with Rumple. It was likely the sorcerer that had cast the spell that had taken magic away from the town. She took off running in the direction that the man had indicated. She'd have to come up with a plan when she got there, but she did know that she couldn't leave him there to fend for himself. She wouldn't leave him behind.

* * *

The man that had coerced him into following him was a good deal younger than Rumple had been when he'd taken on his curse. Young, fit, and whole, unlike the poor spinner from the Frontlands. Everyone there had been old before their time with malnutrition and injuries from the wars. Rumplestiltskin had been no different, really, even if he'd outlived his neighbors by a good three hundred years or so. His human form had never been very strong in and of itself. He was small and wiry and once he'd shattered his ankle he couldn't even rely on being quick on his feet.

The blow connected hard, sending him to his knees immediately. An ache spread through his shoulders from where it had come down between the shoulderblades and he startled to pull himself back up - something entirely unheard of so many years ago, but centuries as the Dark One did tend to make one rather attached to their pride - but a boot pushed down hard with his back and shoved him the rest of the way into the dirt. It slammed into his ribs next, sending him rolling until he was laid out flat, nose buried in dirt and hay. They were in a barn of some sort, unused for some time by the smell of it, but no one had bothered to clean it out well. It seemed less important when he found himself tumbling again, that same boot connecting hard into his other side.

"Get up," the man growled and Rumplestiltskin could only cough, finding it very difficult to breathe. He'd had his share of beatings before, but this man seemed to know just how hard to hit. Most of the ones he'd received as the town coward had been sloppy and uneducated blows, but his attacker now knew what he was doing. He knew when he'd said it that getting up would be near to impossible until he was able to find his breath.

So he reached down, grabbed the back of Rumple's cloak, and hauled him up. "I said  _get up_ ," he growled and tossed the smaller man so that he landed hard against the wall.

Rumple winced. "Let's get this over with," he coughed out. "What… do you want?"

"You really don't know me, do you?" he asked as he crouched down in front of where the Dark One was slouched against the wall. Behind him the door opened and a younger man entered.

"Have you asked him yet, Brother?"

"Getting there," Rumple's attacker answered easily and turned his attention back to the elder man. "Look hard at me, Rumplestiltskin. Very hard. I know you've been called to a lot of deals over your tenure as a walking demon, but I have faith that you'll be able to pull the memory forward. It would have been about ten years ago and a woman called to you. She was desperate -"

"They're  _all_  desperate that call me," Rumple growled out and received a hit hard enough to his face that it snapped his neck around and for a moment he saw flashes of light from the blow.

"This woman was desperate because her husband was ill. He was dying. He was a top general in King George's army. His name was Nathaniel. Hers was Eliza."

The names triggered the memory and Rumplestiltskin could see them as if it had just happened. The woman had called to him in the dead of night, tear-streaked face lit only by a terribly low candle and she'd begun wailing again when he'd appeared. She'd been terrified. Terrified of him, of the idea of losing her husband, and of leaving her two boys without a father. Likely she'd grown up on stories about the Dark One and that he snatched children from their cribs or some such nonesense that passed around certain parts of the kingdoms, and he had truly been her last resort. She'd called too late. George's general's fate had been written and his breath was leaving him quicker than he could pull it in. The price was too high for either of them to be willing to pay, and Rumplestiltskin hadn't blamed them for it. He certainly wouldn't have paid it.

"Yes yes," he managed before next hit landed. "I remember them now. Wouldn't your mother be proud that you'd cornered a helpless man in a village to take out… What? What exactly do you blame me for, again?"

"You're hardly helpless, Dark One," the elder brother sniffed. "You murdered our father."

"Murdered?" Rumplestiltskin echoed. "Hardly."

The blows rained down then, connecting hard with his face, his ribs, and when he curled up on one side with his hands up to protect his face from another blow, that hard-soled boot came crashing down on his ankle. Rumple let out a howl of pain that bounced off the walls and he felt himself nearly slip under the waters of unconsciousness.

"No you don't," his attacker hissed and suddenly Rumplestiltskin found himself drenched in ice-cold water, fully awake and conscious. They'd done that to him from time to time while he waited for his sentencing on if he'd be considered as a deserter or not. He curled a bit further into himself, the memories stirring dangerously along with the pain.

"Theo, we may have a problem," the younger brother called in.

"Now  _now_ , Alexander," Theo growled back, nudging Rumple with the steel toe of his boot. "Yes, Dark One, you murdered our father. Mother called you and she would have paid your price-"

"She called too late," he wheezed. "The price was too high. Sometimes I can't  _control_  that. Your father…" He stopped, painfully focusing on breathing for a moment. "Your father was too far gone."

"Theo!" Alexander called again and this time the elder brother whirled around, giving Rumple just enough of a view past him to see Belle being held. The younger brother didn't seem to know quite what to do with her, holding her tight enough so that she couldn't squirm away but loose enough not to harm her. "She followed us."

"I told you to take care of her, Alex."

"I'm not going to hurt an innocent girl."

"She's with  _him_. She's far from innocent."

"That's not what we discuss, Theo. He's responsible, he pays. That's that."

"I hate to break up your dream cloud theory, dearie, but I'm not responsible for your father's death," Rumple coughed out on the ground. He looked up, making eye contact with Theo. "There are prices to everything. Magic is no exception. The price to save your father would have been an equal exchange. A life for a life, and that life must have been tied to his by blood. You or your brother would have had to die for him to live."

"You could have changed it."

"Sometimes there's no changing the price." When he was fairly certain that Theo wasn't going to physically lash out again at him, he eased himself up, feeling bones make noises that they shouldn't. He pushed down the nauseating feeling as his ribs shifted in the wrong direction and he glanced back at Alexander. The younger man looked less inclined to do any harm to Belle, even if she looked like she was more inclined to slam a foot down on his to have him release her. Rumplestiltskin pulled in as deep of a breath as he dared, turning his dark eyes back to Theo. "What you should be asking, dearie, is what price will you have to pay for this little adventure you and your brother have gone on? You're no sorcerer. Who set you up with this spell, hmm?"

"Where we got it is our concern."

"Indeed. Did that person tell you the price?"

"What price?" Alexander asked, sounding a bit nervous.

"Shut up," Theo hissed at Rumple, his gaze flickering back to his brother briefly. "He's just trying to spook us. He doesn't have magic. He's  _nothing_."

"You're right. I'm no threat to you, but that doesn't mean that I'm lying. What did I just say, Theo? All magic comes with a price. You cast it, you pay it."

"Don't say my name."

Rumplestiltskin snorted a laugh. "Shouldn't have given it to me, dearie." Once he knew the caster's name, finding the right strings to pull and bring the whole spell crashing down was much easier. As soon as he'd found the names he'd worked it into his methods of looking. His mind was running wild and he could still see the many, many threads that made up their little spell. They were most certainly working alone, but he didn't know for sure who was backing them. Regina might have had her hands in it, or possibly even the Blue Fairy if she thought she'd found a way to destroy the Dark One without creating another. There were only a few powerful enough to manipulate it into working.

"I won't have to worry about that much longer. Unlike you, my brother and I can leave this town." He hauled Rumple up by the front of his cloak and the Dark One didn't see the flash of steel until it was too late. The knife was buried deep into his side. If breathing hard been hard before, it felt near to impossible now. " _You_  can pay the price, Dark One."

Rumplestiltskin felt the world pulse around him as Theo ripped the blade back out and dropped him, his knees giving way immediately. He heard Belle screaming his name and he coughed, tasting blood in the back of his throat. Not good. This was not good. He needed to get her out. They might kill her too and without his powers he was useless. He couldn't protect her from them.

"Rumple?" Belle called out, dropping to the ground next to him. Her hands were on his face and… Was she crying? Why was she crying for him? He couldn't focus. He felt like he was drowning and she seemed so very far away now. The sound of the barn doors slamming shut and a lock falling in place was the last thing he heard before everything blacked out.

* * *

Belle hardly noticed as the brothers locked them in. Rumplestiltskin was bleeding and his eyes were rolling back. He coughed, his entire body jerking as he did and she whispered his name again as her hand went to his face, tilting it to the side. Another cough brought blood up with it and tears trickled down her face. He couldn't breathe and she had no idea how to help him. Her first instinct was to try to stop the blood flow, but pressing down against his battered ribs only brought a struggling cry of pain from him before he went far too still.

"Rumple?" she called quietly. "Rumplestiltskin? Wake up. You have to wake up."

His eyes had closed now and he was limp against the dirt. Even the terrible wheezing sound that had accompanied his breathing seemed to have quieted. She stopped, realizing what that meant. "No, no no. You  _can't_  die," she whispered, and she wasn't even sure why. Wasn't he her captor? Her jailor? He got a rise out of tormenting her and never let a chance pass to send her into a fit over something or another. He was vile and evil, wasn't he? Cold and calculated. While she wouldn't wish for his death, of course, she couldn't quite understand why the tears were coming as she pushed back grey-streaked hair out of his face and leaned over him, her lips pressed down against his and a prayer going up to anyone or anything that would listen to her.  _Don't let him die._

Belle startled back as he choked out a cough, sucking in a painful breath and his eyes snapped open, looking at her confused. "You weren't breathing," she whispered through her tears. She didn't know if she was trying to come up with an explanation on why she'd been kissing him or if the terrible thought that he'd almost just slipped away was too much to keep in.

Rumplestiltskin didn't seem to pay it any mind though. "I found it," he rasped.

"Found what?"

"The loose thread."

"To the spell?"

"Yes."

He'd explained to her before that he'd always thought of spells as intricately woven threads, patched together to create something extraordinary. She'd wondered if he'd been overly confident when they arrived that he could unravel anyone's spell, but he must have done it, because even she could feel a sharp pull that felt like a small shock from a lighting storm. She could almost hear the dome overhead shattering and magic rushed through the little village. She turned, watching Rumplestiltskin's expression change. She wanted just a moment more to look at his eyes before they changed, but they flashed gold almost immediately as his curse rushed back into him, filling him up and healing him as it went. His whole body jerked and he pulled in a deep breath. His hair lightened in colour and curled. The gold scales spread out, covering human skin and darkening his nails into claws once more. He was gasping by the end of it, but on his feet only a second later, a terrible, vicious smile on his face and his voice pitched up. "That's better."

"Rumple…stiltskin?" she managed, finding the nickname she'd called him so easily to his human face not matching in her own mind with the monster's mask he now wore.

He turned and his expression softened ever so slightly as he offered her a hand up. "I'm alright now," he assured her. "Nothing's going to harm you."

She wanted to point out that it had been he that had been bleeding out on the dirt floor just moments before, but the words never left her lips as magic swirled around them and suddenly they were standing in the way of Theo and Alexander's grand escape. "Going somewhere, dearies?" Rumplestiltskin chirped causing both men to halt completely in their escape.

"How?" Theo managed, backpedaling.

"I've been putting together and dismantling spells of every sort since before your grandfather's grandfather was born. It was only a matter of time until I found the weakness in it."

"That's not possible."

"Whoever sent you on this little adventure didn't tell you everything, did they? Left you holding the price too." Rumplestiltskin tilted his head in almost a curious fashion and as if on cue, Theo's knees gave out from under him.

Belle peeked around her employer, eyes wide as she saw the blood trickling from Theo's nose and he was sprawled out on the ground, body trembling under some great, unseen pressure. Alexander, who seemed unaffected by whatever was happening, was at his brother's side, calling his name, but Theo seemed unable to answer.

"What did you do to him?" Alexander demanded, easing his brother into his arms and cradling him so that the tremors that shook his body did cause him to slam his skull against the ground.

"Your brother wanted to cast a spell, this is the price. Did you think sectioning off an entire town from magic was going to be  _easy_?"

"But what's happening to him?"

"The curse he cast is rebounded on him. It will kill him. Rip him apart from the inside out."

Belle grabbed his sleeve suddenly, her eyes wide and frightened and the contact - something that had been almost constant in the last hours that they'd been there - startled him. "Can't you save him?"

"Save him?" the Dark One sputtered. "This is what happens when amateurs play with powerful magic, dearie. This is the price of their own foolishness. No, the price must be paid."

"Then I'll take his place," Alexander pressed, standing. "You can do that, can't you? You can switch who pays the price."

Rumplestiltskin watched him, studying him carefully with a look that Belle had seen many times before when he was reaching deep into his own reservoir of magic to find exactly what the limits of the situation were. "No," he said after a moment.

"No…? You can't switch it? Aren't you supposed to be some all-powerful sorcerer?"

The Dark One moved so that he was standing directly in front of the younger man, the dying brother at Alexander's feet. "It's not that I  _can't_ , it's that I  _won't_. He cast the curse. He pays the price. It doesn't help him that he just tried to kill me. Foolish, really."

"You  _bastard_!" Alexander wailed, slamming his fist into Rumplestiltskin, but the smaller man didn't even budge at the blow. "What does it matter to you which lives and which dies for it?"

"It matters because you still have your uses," he answered and turned, one hand waving in the air as he spoke. "For that, I need you alive."

Tears were streaming down Belle's face as magic swirled around them, leaving Alexander to hold his dying brother in his arms and when the smoke cleared, she and Rumplestiltskin were back in the Dark Castle. "Well let's not do  _that_  again, shall we?" he sing-songed lightly.

She felt a sudden rush of rage hit her. He'd just murdered that boy. He could have found a way around it, she  _knew_  he could have found a way around it, but he'd chosen not to. Instead, he'd forced the younger to watch the elder die like some sort of evil monster that got his kicks out of other people's suffering. Belle didn't know that she'd balled her fists up until they bounced harmlessly off his chest and she was screaming through her own tears. "You killed him!" she cried. "You killed him and you could have saved him! You  _are_  a monster!"

He didn't move to stop her, just let her beat on him until she'd wasted what was left of her energy in the emotional outpour and her legs gave way beneath her. Rumplestiltskin caught her though, his face a blank mask of neither irritation or comfort. He simply acted and eased her over into his chair at the long table. Belle buried her face in her hands, her elbows propped on her knees, and she couldn't tell how long she cried. At some point the Dark One left, returned, and finally moved to his spinning wheel at the far side of the room. Her sobs had quieted finally, and only an occasional sniff accompanied the squeaky spinning wheel in the otherwise silent room. Belle pulled in a shaky breath, sat up, and turned to look at him.

"If you're quite done, the foyer is in desperate need of mopping," he said without looking at her.

She didn't want to mop, she wanted to talk about this. She wanted to talk about the fact that she'd seen what he really looked like beneath his curse, that she knew there was a man there, no matter how hard he tried to hide it. She wanted him to tell her that it had all been a ruse, and that after they'd disappeared, he'd decided that Theo and Alexander had learned their lesson about dabbling in magic and they'd both gotten up and gone home to their mother who was surely worried sick for them. She wanted to look into those dark eyes that couldn't hide things quite as well as the gold ones and ask him if he even knew that she'd kissed him while he lay dying on the dirt floor of an old, abandoned barn, and to try to find something in her that could explain why she'd done it and why she'd felt so very, very deeply when she had.

But they wouldn't have that conversation. The creaking wheel told her that. It was his only solace and she… she was just his servant. A payment for a deal. He was not a man - maybe not quite the monster everyone thought, but not a man - and she could not love him.

"I'll have your dinner in after it," she said instead as she stood, forcing her voice to hide at least some of the raging storm behind it. She paused at the door, very briefly, but he made no sound of acknowledgement before she walked away.

* * *

He'd hoped that the rush of power that his curse brought back to him would have crushed the fear, but it hadn't. Her cries had almost been too much and he'd had to drown them out. Rumplestiltskin hadn't quite managed to pull himself away entirely to a different part of the castle - not until he knew she'd come back to herself - and when she finally did leave the room the door closing behind her had been deafening.

She would leave him, he was certain of it now. She would leave him alone in this terrible, lonely place and he would remain here without any hope, without any… What? Love? He pushed the thought out, his curse helping with that at least. He couldn't love her. He'd promised Bae. He had no room for anything else but the Dark Curse and its preparations. He was drawing closer and closer every day and he couldn't afford distractions. Perhaps she should leave. Perhaps he should just turn her out and send her home.

Rumple stood, ready to do what he must. For Bae. For his plans. For everything that he  _needed_  so desperately, she had to go. He moved towards the door, fully intent on going through with it until the soft sobs met his ears as he opened them, and the Dark One froze. Images flashed through his mind, though he didn't dare believe they were real, of Belle leaned over him, tears filling her clear blue eyes and she was begging for him to stay with her. She was begging for  _his_  life. When she could have run, when she could have fled from the life he'd forced her into, she chose to stay and help him. He couldn't turn her out, he rationalized as his feet carried him without command, he had a debt to pay to her first.

He found her in the foyer with a bucket of soapy water and a brush used to scrub where the mop couldn't reach and she was sitting at the base of a pillar, leaned against it and crying again. Rumplestiltskin sighed, steeling himself as he entered. He wasn't even sure when he'd conjured the tray with the steaming tea on it, but somehow, instinctually, he knew it made things better. He hoped it made things better.

Belle turned at the sound of his footsteps and startled, beginning to rise until he shook his head and took a seat on the floor with her, setting the tray down between them. She sniffed, looking at him rather pitifully, before taking the cup. He reached down for the one that she'd chipped on her first day there and almost in unison they took a sip, neither wanting to break the awkward silence between them and broach the subject that loomed there like a terrible beast ready to devour what had become something like a friendship between them over the months. Belle had always been so brave, though, and she peered over the cup after a moment. "I've never seen a man die before," she admitted softly, quickly taking another sip.

"I've seen many die."

"Have you… killed many men before?"

"Some, though I didn't kill this one."

"You didn't save him either."

Rumplestiltskin pulled in a shaky breath, setting his cup back down on the tray and bringing his knees up nearly to his chin. They must have looked quite odd like that, master and servant taking their tea on the marble entrance way to a grand castle. "I'm not a saint, Belle. I'm not a hero like in your books. I don't… swoop in and save people out of the goodness of my heart."

"I know," she whispered brokenly.

"What I told Theo is true: magic comes with a price. While the spell he cast was strong, it was poorly executed. It should have rebounded on them both."

She looked directly at him now, eyes wide and rimmed red. "You stopped it from killing Alexander?"

He nodded, not risking his voice.

"Why?"

"Several reasons," he murmured honestly. "He will… be important someday, in something I'm planning. I don't know the details yet. I don't think he'll play a large role, really, but it does need to be him. That… and he chose not to harm you."

"What do you mean?"

Of course she hadn't known what he meant. Innocent, naive Belle. "Theo wanted you dead."

"Why?"

"He seemed to think it would have some impact on me."

"Would it have?"

He could tell she'd asked the question before thinking it through and her cheeks tinged red now. He offered her a small smile and a tease. "Good help is difficult to find, you know."

Belle laughed at this, reaching out with her foot and nudging his boot with it. "How's your ankle?"

"Oh, it's fine."

"Will you tell me what happened to it?"

"Perhaps someday."

Her smile didn't fade and she reached forward, her hand covering his and he hoped she couldn't hear how hard his heart was hammering against his ribs. "Well, we  _do_  have forever."

"Yes," he murmured softly. "Forever."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you thought :D


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